Perhaps the 1918 is easier to see at the lower left in the humongous image, provided by https://www.bonhams.com/auctions/14218/lot/161/, documenting its sale. That's when it was painted (not 1883).
LOL I can always rely on these for a morning laugh. Thank you for that !
Solstice*1947
1 year ago
Patience, having drawn the short straw, took the family’s lead as the designated locator of land mines.
/// Patience walks at a slow, steady pace,
and remembers this isn’t a race.
Keeps a sharp eye for signs
of those buried land mines,
so the road won’t blow up in her face.
/// If one’s found, the end need not be dire.
She will simply turn ‘round and inquire:
“The mine just started ticking,
so, I need some help picking;
should I sever the red or blue wire?”
Solstice*1947
1 year ago
/// Overnight in the farmers’ north field
came a pattern that sunrise revealed.
Many “rings” that were bare
(the crops no longer there),
like a guide to some treasure concealed.
/// People followed the crop circle trail.
(Might it lead to an alien grail?)
They’d gone twice round each ring
without finding a thing,
then stopped short when they heard the cows wail.
/// They’re prepared to take up arms and battle
who (or what) ever tortured their cattle.
These obscene mutilations,
followed “disk” visitations,
(if you listen to drunk farmers prattle).
Solstice*1947
1 year ago
/// “Dinner Time” once again. Ma’s forlorn.
It is hard, at this time, not to mourn
for the terrible price,
their supreme sacrifice—
feeding children to things in the corn.
Artist info is pointed to in my comment at a prior blog entry.
Thanks! Corrected.
Perhaps the 1918 is easier to see at the lower left in the humongous
image, provided by https://www.bonhams.com/auctions/14218/lot/161/, documenting its sale. That's when it was painted (not 1883).
This comment has been removed by the author.
LOL I can always rely on these for a morning laugh.
Thank you for that !
Patience, having drawn the short straw, took the family’s lead as the designated locator of land mines.
/// Patience walks at a slow, steady pace,
and remembers this isn’t a race.
Keeps a sharp eye for signs
of those buried land mines,
so the road won’t blow up in her face.
/// If one’s found, the end need not be dire.
She will simply turn ‘round and inquire:
“The mine just started ticking,
so, I need some help picking;
should I sever the red or blue wire?”
/// Overnight in the farmers’ north field
came a pattern that sunrise revealed.
Many “rings” that were bare
(the crops no longer there),
like a guide to some treasure concealed.
/// People followed the crop circle trail.
(Might it lead to an alien grail?)
They’d gone twice round each ring
without finding a thing,
then stopped short when they heard the cows wail.
/// They’re prepared to take up arms and battle
who (or what) ever tortured their cattle.
These obscene mutilations,
followed “disk” visitations,
(if you listen to drunk farmers prattle).
/// “Dinner Time” once again. Ma’s forlorn.
It is hard, at this time, not to mourn
for the terrible price,
their supreme sacrifice—
feeding children to things in the corn.